


Whole

by Strange and Intoxicating -rsa- (strangeandintoxicating)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:21:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22255591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangeandintoxicating/pseuds/Strange%20and%20Intoxicating%20-rsa-
Summary: A Crystmas evening to remember, and a gift to bring two souls together.(A gift for kanakotakaya-theshipper)
Relationships: Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 10
Kudos: 48





	Whole

**Author's Note:**

> I was a pinch-hitter for kanakotakaya-theshipper, and I wanted to make sure that she received a lovely gift! I really hope you enjoy this. <3 You gave the request for Ignis and Noctis to give each other the same gift, and the sap in me had to do it. I just had to.

Crystmas had, and always would be, Ignis’s favorite holiday. Perhaps it was the general cheer, the sweet smell of bread mixed with the ever-present frost, maybe even the way the entire city of Insomnia lit up with Crystmas trees. 

The holiday, created as a way to celebrate the darkest day of the year being lit by the brightness of the Crystal and the hearts of the people, had always been a special occasion for both Ignis and Noctis. It was the first time they’d kissed, the first time they touched, the first time they whispered the word _love_ to one another. 

And, Ignis thought as he gently patted his breast pocket, hopefully the day that Noctis would make him the happiest man on Eos.

It was difficult to put words together to formulate precisely how Ignis would undoubtedly feel at that moment, standing under the glistening purple and white glow of the Crystal. He’d been thinking about nothing but that moment for so long that now that it was soon to be upon him, what could he do? What could he say? 

_Well, I’ll need to get down on one knee, for starters,_ Ignis thought with a half-chuckle as he straightened his suit for what must have been the fifteenth time in as many minutes, staring into the mirror in his old bedroom in the Citadel. 

He’d run through exactly what he wanted to do over and over again, but nothing would be exactly right. Nothing _could_ be exactly right for Noctis.

At first, Ignis wanted to drop down on one knee the moment Noctis came down the stairs from his throne next to his father for the official lighting of the Crystmas tree. Then it became when they opened the first dance of the ball, but Ignis couldn’t decide if he would do it before or after the dance, which made it near-impossible for Ignis to choose.

Every time he thought too hard on what he would do, Ignis ended up right back at square one, panicking as he made sure for the _sixteenth_ time that the ring was still there.

He could almost hear Gladio’s voice in his head, mocking him that he was going to end up wearing a hole in his pocket and _actually_ lose the ring.

“Bloody hells,” Ignis muttered as he stopped himself from rubbing against the fabric. He needed to calm himself down before he talked himself out of proposing to the man he loved more than life itself.

He could all but hear Noctis’s voice whisper in his ear that it didn’t matter how Ignis did it, as long as he did it. They were always two halves of the same whole, and Ignis knew that whatever he did, Noctis wouldn’t care. 

_Just as long as I do it..._

“Can’t have you chickening out on me.”

Ignis snapped his head around, throat going dry.

There Noctis was, leaning against the door, arms crossed in front of him. The little smile pulled over his mouth, a secretive thing just for them, made Ignis’s heart flutter in his chest. 

Gods, Noctis looked magnificent. The way his hair stuck up in spite of itself, the way Noctis’s blue eyes glowed in the dim chandelier light—he was a masterpiece. 

_And tonight I will finally ask to be his, forever._

Ignis swallowed back the urge to make a pun, instead enjoying the way Noctis pushed off the doorway and made his way over to Ignis, wrapping his arms around Ignis’s stomach.

“Let’s just go home?” Noctis clung like a koala to Ignis, and if Ignis were honest with himself, he would have been happy just to let him. “We can just go back to the apartment, pour some mulled wine, eat some of that Insomnia bread you made…” Noctis’s hands snaked down to around Ignis’s belly button. “It’d be fun, right?”

The weight of the ring in his pocket and the butterflies in his stomach were a reminder that while it would be fun to go home and just spend the holiday with Noctis and a nice glass of wine…

_I want this. I want **him**. _

Ignis smiled as he slowly turned in Noctis’s arms, Noctis burying his head into Ignis’s stomach.

“You know we can’t, Noct.” 

Noctis sighed, but it was more fond than annoyed. “What would I ever do with you?” he said softly, arms tightening.

“Starve,” Ignis bluntly replied as he leaned down to rest his chin against Noctis’s fop of hair. No one could possibly know how lucky Ignis was; they never got to see this part of Noct— _his_ part of Noct. They got to see the prince, the future king, but not _this_. This part was just for him.

 _And it’s the part of him I love more than life itself,_ Ignis thought as he reached up, letting his fingers tangle in Noctis’s hair. It felt soft, like childhood memories and long-ago days. 

“Too true.” But there was a smile on Noctis’s lips when he looked up, eyes fond as he leaned in for a kiss. The angle was awkward, but any kiss Noctis was willing to give him was worth the momentary discomfort.

Ignis noticed almost immediately when his hand grazed Noctis’s neck that something was missing.

“You forgot your necklace?” Ignis asked, alarmed. The necklace was the late queen’s engagement ring, a piece of jewelry that Ignis had never once seen Noctis take off. 

“Oh, yeah.” Noctis reached up to his throat, rubbing at the space the silver and black ring always sat. “The clasp broke when I was getting dressed. It’s with the jeweler. He said we could go pick it up tomorrow.” 

Ignis frowned. “Noct, are you sure it’s alright? I could lend you one of my chains.” 

Noctis shook his head. “Nah, it’s okay. He’s already got it, anyway.” 

“If you’re sure,” Ignis said after a moment, staring critically at Noctis. That necklace represented more than just his mother’s engagement ring; it was the part of Queen Aulea that Noctis always kept with him, a reminder to never let the ring King Regis wore become too heavy. 

Noctis smiled, reaching up to rub his hand against the back of Ignis’s neck. “I am, promise. Now, c’mon, let’s go in together—the locusts are waiting for us.” 

The locusts, of course, were the swarms of paparazzi buzzing through the Citadel, all cameras aimed at Ignis and Noctis as they walked through the doors leading to the Throne Room, the awe-inspiring tree the size of a catoblepas making Ignis take in a long, lingering breath. He remembered as a little boy how King Regis had used his magic to add the Meteor shard, both Ignis and Noctis staring in awe at the man’s grace and strength. 

King Regis had asked Noctis to do it this year in his stead, citing his knee and the ring, though Ignis knew that there was a pride in watching Noctis use his magic.

Ignis reached down, his hand brush against Noctis’s for just a moment before Noctis turned toward the stairs and the Crystal. 

Ignis looked at the Crystal, at its soft, twinkling light. He could feel the draw of magic, the power that laid sleeping within its crystalline depths, but he did not feel the call that Noctis did. He had yet to make that promise, had yet to bind their souls together. This part wasn’t for Ignis—not yet, anyway.

This was for the Lucis Caelum line, the line that had promised their blood to the Crystal that kept away the darkness. 

If Noctis said yes, if he accepted the ring in Ignis’s shirt pocket, then next year…

“Save the first dance for me, yeah?” 

Ignis smiled at Noctis’s retreating form.

“Always.” 

* * *

The speech went off without a hitch, as expected. Ignis had listened to Noctis reciting the speech— the first time he was given the duty— over and over again until Ignis was confident _he_ would’ve been able to give the damn thing. In fact, on more than one occasion, Ignis found himself mouthing the words, enjoying how Noctis’s soothing tone washed over him.

The speech was filled with pleasantries and optimism, “a light in the darkest of places,” as Noctis intoned to the enthralled public. Still, Ignis couldn’t help but watch Noctis’s hands. 

Noctis had, ever since he was a little boy, showed his feelings not just through his face, but his hands. Though Noctis’s face was impassive, blank to many who may have never really known Noctis, his hands told a different story. 

Balled up and tight, Ignis watched as word by word they began to loosen. The longer he spoke, the more passionate his words became, until they reached a fever-pitch that only ended with the crescendo of applause.

Ignis felt someone’s hand on his shoulder, and it was as though he were snapped out of a trance. 

“You good?” 

Ignis swallowed and managed a terse nod to Gladio. “Of course I am.” 

“Not going to flake out?” Gladio’s voice was low so the vultures nearby couldn’t hear.

Ignis reached up to pat the ring in his pocket, making sure it was still there. “Absolutely not.” 

“You sound nervous.”

“Wouldn’t you be? I’d be peeing myself,” Prompto said from behind them, voice a little louder than it should have been. They managed to get a few curious glances from some of the other partygoers— mostly Crownsguard members, but Cor grumbled something and they all snapped back to attention. 

“I’m fine, thank you,” Ignis snipped, trying to keep his voice steady as Noctis slowly began the descent, King Regis next to him. The topper for the Crystmas tree, a frozen piece of the Meteor that shined like the stars in the sky, glowed in Noctis’s hands. 

The next part, Ignis knew, would be the most challenging thing for Noctis; due to the daemon attack all those years ago, the magic inside of Noctis had become so very temperamental. While Regis had always been able to control his magic, to use the air and the Crystal’s strength to lift the Meteor shard to the top of the tree, Noctis… 

Ignis knew that Noctis could do it, that the block was more mental than anything else, but...

Noctis looked up at him then, a small smile pulling at his mouth. It was strained at the corners, just enough for Ignis to see the worry fighting its way into Noctis’s face.

“I believe in you,” Ignis mouthed, watching as Noctis paused just long enough to pull his head up, eyes filled with a fire Ignis knew was always there. 

Watching Noctis’s magic, slowly but surely, lift the Meteor shard to the top of the tree, made Ignis’s eyes water. He had to blink back tears, though he could feel his face begin to heat up. 

_Pull yourself together, Ignis. This isn’t the time to start to cry,_ he thought as he took in two large breaths, trying to keep himself calm. It was so silly, Ignis knew, but at the same time… 

Noctis could do anything, as long as he believed in himself.

_And if he can be this strong, then so can I._

A round of applause shattered the silence, but just as Ignis went to step forward, King Regis lifted up his hand. The audience’s applause tittered out, and Ignis was gently shoved forward. 

“Wha—” 

“Dude, just _go_.” 

“But—” 

“Ignis?” Ignis swallowed, hard, as he stared at King Regis. The man stood strong, proud, next to Noctis. “Would you come forward, please?” 

Ignis looked around at the sea of faces staring at him, and though it felt as though his feet were glued to the ground, another nudge from Prompto and Gladio made Ignis step forward. 

Ignis licked his lips and reached up for his pocket, the weight of the ring Ignis picked out for Noctis giving him comfort. 

“Your Majesty?” Ignis asked, trying to keep the confusion out of his voice. 

King Regis reached out to clap his hand against Ignis’s shoulder, saying nothing, before stepping back slowly. 

The lights around them dimmed as the lights of the tree, purple and silver and oh so very beautiful, illuminated the Throne Room. 

No— they illuminated _Noctis_.

“Noct?” Ignis asked softly, though his voice seemed to carry over the gentle murmur surrounding them. 

In response, Noctis reached out his hand for Ignis’s, a reminder of so many years before in the very same room. From the way Noctis’s eyes shined in the light of the Crystmas tree, it was clear that Noctis remembered, too.

Ignis took Noctis’s outstretched hand then, just as he did now, too.

“Iggy… my best friend. My better half. My… my everything.” Noctis bit at his top lip for just a moment before getting down on one knee, other hand reaching for his jacket pocket. Ignis saw the glint of silver and black, the same ring Ignis had seen a thousand times around Noctis’s neck, in Noctis’s hand. 

“Will you marry me?” 

All Ignis could hear was the sound of blood rushing through his ears, the thrumming of his heart a staccato that drowned out the rest of Eos. In this very moment, it was just Noctis and Ignis, as it always had and always _would_ be.

Ignis blinked once, twice, and then found that he couldn’t stop the laughter from bubbling up his throat, high-pitched and so giddy that Ignis could barely _breathe_ , let alone think.

“Uh...Iggy?” 

Ignis found himself sinking to his knees as he fumbled for the ring in his pocket, unable to do anything but laugh as he pulled out his own ring, holding it out for Noctis to see.

All of the planning, all of the worry, all of the _everything_ seemed to fade into the distance as he stared at Noctis’s shocked face, at how his hand hung limp at his side. Ignis knew those hands, knew what that meant. 

Ignis’s laughter trailed off as he stared into Noctis’s too blue eyes.

“Only if you’ll marry me, too.” 

There was protocol about the way Lucian royalty was supposed to behave in front of others, but years of decorum went out the window as Noctis threw both arms around Ignis’s neck, pulling him in for a kiss. Ignis could feel the warmth of the tears against his cheeks, not knowing or particularly caring if they were his or Noctis’s. 

As far as he was concerned, they were always two halves of the same whole.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” 

“Of course, Noct,” Ignis managed between kisses, the roar of applause completely and utterly _deafening_. “Always.” 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Bonus: King Regis later gives both Gladio and Prompto warm pats on the back and a glass of his personal stash of scotch for helping to get a double proposal out of Noctis and Ignis.


End file.
